A Tuscan Thumbelina
by GizmoGadgetry
Summary: "Lovino Vargas was a feisty little thing - Roma should have guessed that anything coming from the Britannia Angel would be identical in personality." Based off of Don Bluth's Thumbelina. SpainxRomano/AntonioxLovino - human names used.
1. Prologue

So I was totally inspired by EnduraAngel's awesome Hetalia/Thumbelina fanfiction (It's so great! Go read it!), and decided to try the same concept for one of my favorite pairings, SpainxRomano. The story's based off of Don Bluth's Thumbelina (one of my favorite movies as a kid) - sometimes the plot deviates a bit from the movie, and sometimes it's almost exactly the same, it depends on where I felt like putting my ADD powers to use. And since I took a trip to Italy last April and fell in love with the countryside, I decided to plop it in the middle of Tuscany. Yay! :D

Disclamer: I don't own APH, or Don Bluth's Thumbelina, or the original Hans Christian Andersen's Thumbelina. :)

* * *

A Tuscan Thumbelina

Prolouge

Once upon a time, there lived an young Italian man by the name of Roma Vargas. A kindred soul who treasured family above anything else, he and his wife lived happily in the busy city of Florence, excitedly planning for a new addition to their household. Every night they would sit together in front of the fire and exchange loving words, the gentle caresses of his hand upon her stomach almost too sweet to stand. He was more than ready to be a father, more than ready to pass on all of the loving his own papa had given him to his new child.

However, the day he and his wife both dreamed of came sooner than they had ever hoped. Too soon.

He hurried her to the hospital as her breathing turned harsh and quick and her face slowly morphed into a mask of unbearable pain. With just one look, the doctor immediately realized that he would have to induce her labor, but in the end, it just wasn't enough.

That next week, Roma packed up all of his possessions with a broken heart and moved to the countryside of Tuscany, where he proceeded to live the next twenty years of his life alone in a small village. He purchased a shop with large windows facing the street of the town square and took up the occupation of the village leather-worker. Every day he would smile to himself as he watched the little children run through the road on their way home after a day of school, and he took great pleasure when they would drop in for some of his locally-famous biscotti.

He was a lonely man, now around the age of forty, and he could feel his heart break just a little bit more each day as the children would leave his shop with cheerful "Goodbye, Mr. Vargas!"s. How he wished for a child of his own, for the chance to re-kindle his dreams of having a family!

And then, one fateful day, as he was preparing to close up his shop, that chance came in the form of two old women who stopped by to pick up a jacket he had just finished mending.

"Have you heard, Mr. Vargas?" one of them asked him as she handed him his money, her voice dropping to a hush. "A rumor has been going around that, believe it or not, an _angel _that grants wishes lives just on the outskirts of town!"

Roma chuckled heartily and retrieved the jacket from his workbench. "No, I'm afraid I haven't, madam."

"It's true!" the other exclaimed, nodding. "Just about a week ago, young Mrs. Elizabeta Edelstein came down with a nasty fever, poor thing, and she was barely able to get out of bed! It truly put Mr. Edelstein through a loop - he was almost sick himself, with worry. And then one day, as he was coming home, he met this young man at the tavern, an _angel!_ The creature was so touched by his doting over his wife that he handed Roderich some special medicine, and the next morning, Elizabeta was good as new!"

Roma cocked an eyebrow. Roderich Edelstein, the local school's music teacher, was a very practical person and was probably the least-likely to concoct a story about something as ludicrous as _wish-granting angels_.

His mind immediately began to ponder; '_What if...?_'

That night, Roma Vargas packed up his things and locked his shop, setting off down the road to return home, his brain working the entire time. _'It's completely illogical,'_ he repeated in his head, berating himself for even thinking of such a possibility. _'There is no such thing as wish-grantin-'_

"Woah!"

Roma snapped out of his train of thought as he bumped into someone crossing the street. "Ah! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, outstretching a hand to help the stranger. Squinting to see through the dark (he normally kept his glasses at home), Roma realized that the person was a young man, with... -he inhaled sharply and quickly- ...with one of the most angelic faces he had ever seen. Short, dirty-blond hair choppily framing his face, the boy looked up at him with eyes of piercing emerald, his bushy eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"What the hell?" the boy spat at him, swaying.

And apparently, that boy was very drunk.

Roma's eyebrows raised as the young man grimaced at him and grabbed onto his forearm for stability. "Whadd'ya want? I don't got... t-time for granting wishes to every single one of you ungrateful humans..." he mumbled, hiccuping.

_Granting wishes_...?

"You... you wouldn't happen to be... the wish-granting angel, would you?" Roma asked hesitantly.

"Oi, it's the _Britannia Angel_, you git. And nooooo, I'm not granting your bloody wish - I'm all spent for today, so stop aths...asking"

"...Britannia? You're from Britain?"

The Britannia Angel giggled and snorted. "Nooooo, my accent's a'tually from China- Of course 'm British! I'm m-magic, aren't I-ugggggh!" Roma stepped back as Britannia lurched forward, seeming as if he were about to vomit.

Roma stared down at the boy sympathetically. "You look like you'll need some help getting home. Where do you live?"

Surprisingly, Britannia didn't refuse as Roma had somewhat-expected him to. "It's down the road a b-bit..." He pointed to where the town's boundaries ended and Tuscany's famous olive fields began. The direction was the complete opposite of where Roma was headed, but not one to leave a person in need, he nodded and slung Britannia's arm around his neck, beginning to set off towards the boy's house.

The trip only lasted around seven minutes until they reached a quaint cottage on the side of the road. "This's it," Britannia mumbled, pointing. He stumbled forward and produced a key from his pocket, fitting it into a lock and opening the door.

"So you're good, then?" Roma asked. "All right, you take care of yourself."

And with that, he began to make his way back to town.

"Wait!" Britannia shouted at his back; Roma turned around. "I... I k-kinda like you, so I'll grant one'a your wishes after'll."

Roma raised an eyebrow and made his way back to him. "Are you really sure you're all right, kid?"

"Pffffft," Brittania spluttered. "'M fine, just get out with it."

The older man paused for a second, before shrugging, deciding to humor the boy. "I've always wanted a child," he said, "someone who would be my family."

Brittania just stared at him for a second, swaying slightly, before two, pure-white wings suddenly popped out from his back. Roma's eyes widened in disbelief as the boy quickly jumped into the air, pivoted, and flew into the house with a "Wait here!"

The sound of metal clashing together and heavy things dropping to the floor drifted from the cottage as Roma stood there, the image of those wings imprinting itself in his mind. The chaotic noises continued for a good minute, until finally a triumphant "There we go!" was heard - Brittania's face appeared moments later.

"Come'ere," he said, coaxing Roma forward with a finger. "Hold out your 'and."

Roma did so, and the Brittania Angel dropped a single barleycorn into his waiting palm. He stared at it for a few seconds, before raising his head to look back at the boy. "...What?"

"Plant it."

"Plant it?"

"Yeah. Oh, and do it inna flower pot, actually, I don' think it'll work if it's anywhere else."

"But how will a barleycorn-"

The Brittania Angel "Pffffft!"d again. "Just do it - you wanna kid, don'tcha?"

And before Roma could even reply, the boy flew back into his house and slammed the door.

The next day, Roma Vargas woke up early and filled a flower pot with soil from his backyard. He lifted the seed from the counter, stared at it quizzically, shrugged, and brought it to his lips to kiss it gently before pushing it into the dirt and dousing it with water.

The days went by, and every night after he came home from his shop, Roma would pay a visit to his windowsill where the flowerpot sat, taking special care to remember to water it once or twice a week. Soon enough, a sprout began to show. It grew bigger and bigger by the day, until one night, Roma was surprised to find it harboring a very large, unopened bud that had not been there that morning.

"What a beautiful flower," he let out in surprise, having not expected the seed to amount to anything of importance. The bud seemed to have been painted with every color of the rainbow, and its leaves flourished, full and green. Unable to help himself, Roma bent forward and pressed his lips to the bud, as he had often seen his mother do when he a young boy.

Imagine his surprise when the flower magically began to open! The petals slowly swiveled and twisted away from each other on their own, and- wait, was there something in there?

Roma's breath caught as a soft yawn that was definitely not his own sounded. There, from within the midst of the flower's petals, was a little boy around the age of five, miniscule in size and unfurling himself as if he had just woken up from a good night's sleep. He blinked lethargically and turned his head to look up at Roma, who stood there frozen to the spot.

"What're you staring at, old man?"

Roma continued to gawk at the boy for a few seconds, before bursting out into relieved laughter. The flower child quirked an eyebrow up at him as all of Roma's pent-up feelings from the past twenty years flowed out in his single bout of laughter. "Oh, my boy," he finally managed to get out as his breaths began to normalize, "my dear, dear boy, come here." He held out his hand, and the boy complied, shakily getting to his feet and clambering over the petals to reach Roma's palm, obviously not used to using his legs.

He looked like one of the old Roman works of art that were showcased back in Florence; he had vibrant, hazel eyes, a full head of dark, auburn hair with a single strand that grew longer than the rest and curled in a curious fashion, and a delicate body covered in soft, pale skin. The boy grabbed onto Roma's thumb to help steady his legs, and Roma observed that the top of the his head didn't even seem to reach the tip of his fingernail, his body was so small.

"Do you have a name?"

The boy looked up at Roma and shook his head. Roma chuckled in response and thought for a second. "How do you like Lovino? Lovino Vargas?" The same name he was going to give to his late-son.

Lovino Vargas shrugged.

"It's not bad."


	2. Lovino Vargas

Chapter 1 – Lovino Vargas

Lovino Vargas was a feisty little thing - Roma should have guessed that anything coming from the Britannia Angel would be identical in personality. The boy's face was almost always set in a scowl or frown, his arms continuously returning to their default folded position when not in use. He wasn't the best at helping out with things such as housework or gardening, which was understandable considering his size, but the amount of complaining on his end which occurred when he failed to do such things as lifting a simple butter knife was undeniably depressing and even somewhat annoying.

Roma nearly had a heart attack when one day, after an afternoon of playing outside, Lovino came storming in sporting a bleeding cut on his shoulder and spewing an astonishing amount of curses that Roma had most _certainly_ not taught him.

Definitely the kin of the Britannia Angel.

But even still, Roma loved him a ridiculous amount. Despite Lovino's harsh words, he could always sense an underlying tone of respect and even affection in his voice; that alone was enough to keep him happy for hours. And when the boy actually voiced any positive feelings, his little cheeks bloomed into the most beautiful shade of red! It really was too cute, and Roma found himself turning into an absolutely doting father.

And so the years went by, Lovino growing from a little cherub, to a slightly awkward and gangly pre-teen, to a dashing young man of nineteen.

"Lovino!" he called, leaning out the window to scour the backyard for any tiny flicks of movement. "It's getting late, my boy, come inside!"

"...I'm coming, I'm coming, God..."

Roma looked down and chuckled lightly upon seeing his son trying to shimmy up the drainage pipe. He leaned over the window sill and extended his hand. "Here, let me help yo-"

"No," Lovino huffed, determination on his face. "I've got it."

Admiring his son's ever-present desire to test his strength, Roma leaned his elbow on the bottom of the window and watched on as Lovino used the thin metal bars restraining the pipe to the side of the house as footholds to propel himself up. Within moments, he reached the window sill, smirking up at his father in triumph.

"Well done, Lovino!" Roma said, tapping Lovino's back with the pad of his index finger, "Now come inside and we'll have some dinner."

Their supper of ravioli passed by quietly, only the sound of silverware squeaking against their plates filling the room. Roma cocked an eyebrow as Lovino silently speared a piece of ricotta cheese on his half-broken toothpick, a far-off look in his eyes. Strange - normally while eating, his son frequently pointed out every flaw to the dish he could find (though he still devoured the meal regardless). After depositing their tableware in the sink, Roma set Lovino onto his shoulder and made his way to their bedrooms.

As they crossed through the living room, Lovino squirmed slightly. "F...father?"

Roma paused and turned his head to look at the teen. "Yes, Lovino?"

"Do... do you... Could read me a story from the book? Like when I was little?"

The older man's eyebrows rose a bit as he took in his son's face which was flushed red. 'The book' Lovino spoke of was an old collection of fairy tales Roma had bought for his son just after he was born. Not one to show much affection towards anything, Lovino often stated that he hated the book and thought it was too childish; but in truth, he had Roma read to him almost every night for the first five years of his life.

Roma smiled warmly. "Why, sure, if you wish."

And so he took a detour from his set path and sat down in the rocking chair beside the bookshelf, pulling out a thick book and blowing the dust off of the cover.

"Any requests?"

The reply came almost instantaneously - "Beauty and the Beast."

Roma checked the table of contents, flipped to the start of the story, and began reading. The tale lasted around ten minutes, and just like the old days, Lovino immediately ceased all movement and listened with total dedication. "And they lived happily ever after..." he whispered along with Roma as the story came to its close.

Lovino's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pressed together in a thin line as he stared at the picture which showed the beast transforming into a handsome prince. "They're the same..." he mumbled, his voice quiet, the words meant for himself but still heard by Roma because of his position on his shoulder.

"You know?" Lovino continued, raising his voice to its normal level. "None of the birds want to be around me anymore. Or the chipmunks. Or even the farm animals." Lovino sighed in exasperation. "They're all too busy being in freaking _love_ with each other."

Oh. _Oh_.

Roma felt his heart drop with pity. He knew this day would come late for his Lovino, because of his lack of interaction with other human children, but he still knew it would come. Lovino wasn't a little boy anymore; he was in his late teens now, border-stepping the lines of adulthood. It was inevitable that he would begin to start wondering about the rest of his life and who to spend it with.

Lovino sighed again, fist propping up his jaw. "I wish there was a story about people like me."

Roma bit the inside of his cheek for a second, contemplating, before answering, "...There is."

That certainly caught Lovino's attention. "What?"

Roma had always kept the story at the very back of the book a secret from Lovino as a boy, afraid that it would give him some crazy idea to go off in search of the creatures. Whenever Lovino had questioned his motives for skipping the story, Roma had always answered with an "Oh, that one is a bit too scary for you, my boy."

And now, he found himself flipping past the familiar and heavily-tread parts of the book to the end. Lovino gasped as he took in the picture on the title page. Two tiny figures, one man and one woman, stood hand in hand with impeccable posture on top of a wild mushroom. "They're... they're small!" Lovino exclaimed, sliding down Roma's arm so he could stand on the page and get a better look, showing an amount of excitement Roma had not expected him to be capable of.

Lovino then paused for a second, having caught sight of something peculiar about the picture. "What are those?" he asked, pointing down at the transparent things sticking out of the two people's backs.

"They're wings, Lovino. These creatures are called faeries - they fly around and control the elements and seasons."

There was a moment of silence. "...I wonder what they're doing here," Lovino thought aloud, gesturing to the picture.

Roma studied the image. "Well, since they have crowns..." he leaned forward and tapped the ornament adorning the man's head, "it's probably a prince and princess having a wedding."

Lovino's mesmerized look flipped back into his signature scowl faster than Roma could even blink. "And they lived happily ever after..." He raised his foot and stomped it down angrily on the page. "Well, that _sucks_. What am I supposed to do, then? Even _they_ have someone the same size," he spat, a twinge of desperation in his voice, his eyes narrowing in envy at the couple in the picture.

Roma sighed and grasped the back of his son's vest with his thumb and forefinger - Lovino immediately started kicking and thrashing around, fighting back as he often did when he got into a particularly nasty mood. "Let me go, old man! Get the _hell _off-"

"Lovino." Roma swung him up until they were eye-to-eye. Lovino immediately averted his gaze, eyes brimming with unshed tears and face flushed with injustice and insecurity. "Lovino, look at me." The boy reluctantly complied. "You are perfect, just the way you are. Don't _ever_ doubt it." Lovino rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak. Roma shook him gently, "-And I'm _not_ just saying it because I'm your father. Don't you ever, _ever_ wish to be anything other than what you already are. Love takes place in all shapes and sizes - the two in love do not have to be the same size for it to work."

Lovino stared at Roma dead-on for a few seconds before his shoulders slumped and his gaze dulled in defeat. "...Alright, alright."

Roma sighed, bringing his other hand up to pat Lovino's head comfortingly, granting himself another "Get off me!"

"Come," he said, standing up and placing Lovino back on his shoulder, "Let's go to bed; it's getting late."

He bent over to close the book, but a small hand on his neck stopped him. "Can you bring it along, too? N-not that I want to look at the picture or anything - I just need to brush up on my reading, is all."

Roma chuckled lightly and nodded, scooping up the book into his hand and carrying it to Lovino's room.


	3. An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 2 - An Unexpected Visitor

Lovino sighed, laying on his back in his walnut bed and staring at the picture of the two faeries. Roma had opened the storybook and stood it upright in front of his bed (which sat on a shelf next to the windowsill), cornering it on another book to keep the pages open. The lantern in the hall was still lit; Lovino waited impatiently for his father to blow it out, holding tight for just a second longer until he heard the tell-tale 'click' of the door shutting behind him.

Kicking his covers off, Lovino stood up and walked over to the book, gazing up at the picture. Sure, he could agree with Roma when he said that love came in all shapes and sizes, but wouldn't it work that much better if the two in love were at least remotely close in physical stature? He huffed, crossed his arms, and stomped to the edge of the shelf, sitting down and facing the rest of his room, letting his legs dangle back and forth and trying to ignore the almost unbearable aching in his heart.

Double-checking to make sure that his door was securely closed and no movement could be heard from the rest of the house, Lovino slowly drew in a breath and began to sing a song he often heard the morning doves coo to themselves when trying to lift their spirits after being unable to find a mate, desperate to console himself.

* * *

It had been night outside for around two hours, and all the townsfolk were safe in their homes, the foliage in their backyards the furthest thing from their minds. So, of course, no one noticed when the ferns ruffled curiously without any animals nearby to cause the disturbance, and no one most certainly did not notice when the colors of their olives, squashes, and cucumbers started to _change color. _

The Procession of the Faeries flitted through the fields of Tuscany, composed almost entirely of autumn faeries riding on butterflies, triggering the chlorophyll in every plant they could get to. Leading the parade was King Gilbert and Queen Matthew (who also was technically a King), both riding elegant Monarchs and leaving glittering trails of fay dust in their wake.

"Gilbert," Matthew whispered, swerving closer to his husband. "Gilbert, your cousin is missing again."

Gilbert let out a bark of laugh. "Wow, that's a record. It's probably because of that totally un-awesome butterfly my parents gave him; I wouldn't be caught dead on that thing."

Behind them, an large Zabulon Skipper fluttered around aimlessly without a rider.

"You know I personally don't mind it, but what is the _court _going to say if they see him flying around on that turtle?"

Gilbert sighed and reached over to take Matthew's hand in his. "Mattie, it'll be fine. And besides, getting that turtle enchanted was one of the best ideas ever - the court should be begging to get a ride on it."

* * *

Meanwhile, almost a mile away, that same turtle zoomed through the air at unimaginable speeds, weaving through the olive trees with Gilbert's cousin, Antonio, to guide it.

"Ah, what a beautiful night!" he mused to himself, inhaling deeply, already sensing the effects of the Procession's work on the plants. He navigated his turtle, Andre, to a nearby dirt road and decided to zoom along it, testing to see how fast he could go.

Antonio loved riding around at nighttime, dousing himself in the deep blackness of the sky and flitting among the stars. It was a very wonderful and exhilarating feeling - ten times better than having to impress a bunch of uptight court officials by showing off your _glittering_ skills. As he hurtled towards the humans' town, he passed a few lone houses, their windows dark and free of activity.

"Oh?" Antonio patted Andre's neck twice, a sign to slow down, and swiveled his torso around to stare at the garden of one particular home. "Look at that, Andre!" he exclaimed, "A black raspberry patch!"

Backtracking a few meters, Antonio jumped off of Andre's shell and flew up to the brambles, laughing a bit in triumph when he caught sight of some still-ripe berries. "Come here and help me pick a few of these!"

He hovered in front of a cluster and began to strip the small, spherical pieces off the stem, depositing entire armfuls into a large bag strapped to the back of Andre's back, the turtle 'helping' by chomping his jaws down on entire berries, albeit swallowing them.

"This is great," Antonio mused, raising a sphere to his lips and taking a large bite. "Almost all of the raspberries are gone already - I'll just take these back to bribe the court into forgiving me for skipping tonight's Golding of the Lea-"

_"I know there's someone..."_

Antonio started, nearly dropping the raspberry pieces as a voice began singing from the nearby house. Immediately grabbing Andre by the shell and taking cover behind the berries, he studied the window closest to him, expecting to see a human's face any second. When one failed to appear, Antonio cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward a bit, as if it would help him hear better.

The voice was a young man's, a tenor's - pure, clear, solid, beautiful... and slightly muffled behind the thumping that began to take place in Antonio's ears, sounding suspiciously like his own heart. Before he could even think to stop himself, Antonio let his wings carry him up to the window.

* * *

_"Soon, a happy ending... Love, can you hear me?..."_

"-..." Lovino scowled and swore. "This is stupid. Why the hell did I even think to sing such a sappy song...?"

"Oh, please do not stop - you have such a lovely voice."

Lovino gasped and twisted around to see someone grinning down at him, sitting on top of the book. "Ch-CHIGIIII!" he shouted (a verbal tick he had adopted from the very-excitable chicks living at the farm next door) as he fell off the bureau, landing on his back in a drawer Roma kept filled with blankets and always left half-way open, should Lovino randomly develop a knack for sleep-walking. He scrambled into the concave created by the drawer and the shelf and pressed himself against one of the corners.

"Wait!" he heard the stranger exclaim while a soft sound occurred, like a flag flapping gently in the wind. "I apologize - I didn't mean to scare you."

Lovino watched as a small trail of sparkling glitter fell onto the portion of the blankets uncovered; a pair of legs appeared soon after as the person purposefully jumped down from atop the bureau. The stranger dropped to his knees, and suddenly Lovino was staring into bright, clear green eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the man said, holding out a hand, "...so will you please come out?"

Lovino opened and closed his mouth several times before he was able to clearly form a correct sentence: "Li-Li-L-Like _hell_ I will!" And then he promptly slapped the hand away.

The man's eyebrows raised slightly, his arm retracting a bit, and it was at this moment that Lovino finally realized something extremely consequential about him...

The mysterious person was _exactly his size_.

Eyes widening exponentially, Lovino's jaw literally dropped as he took in everything about the man, from his short brown hair, to his clothes (which looked very expensive), to his relaxed posture.

The man cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, what are you staring at?"

Lovino lifted his gaze to make eye-contact with him, his voice coming out as a whisper - "You're... you're small."

"Excuse me?"

Lovino opened his mouth to reply, only to gasp as his eyes immediately zoned in on a flicking movement occurring behind the man's back. "Are those... _wings_?"

His revelation was greeted with laughter - a light-hearted, joyful sound that seemed to fill the entire room. "Of course, are you meaning to tell me you don't have them as well?" His words were obviously meant as a joke.

Lovino slowly shook his head 'no', and the laughs immediately ceased. The man's expression became puzzled. "You're... not a faerie?"

"...No."

"But how...?"

"None of your business."

The man stared at him for a second, before grinning widely. "I like you." Lovino immediately felt his cheeks darken at the blatant statement. "My name is Antonio."

Lovino glared at him despite the sudden pounding in his chest. He hesitated for a second, and then slowly began to crawl out into the open.

Antonio smiled happily as he did so. "What, you're not going to tell me your name?"

"No, I'm not," Lovino replied, standing up and stretching his legs. To his chagrin, he realized that Antonio was just a few inches taller than he was, though he only seemed a year or so older.

Antonio looked at him in such a way that made Lovino swear he was almost pouting. Sighing, he relented. "Okay, fine, God. It's Lovino."

"...Lovino..." Antonio repeated, a grin that seemed to emulate the rising sun spreading across his face. "Lovino - what a great name."

Lovino's face flushed into his signature shade of red, causing Antonio to chuckle.

"Aw, you look just like a tomato!" he cooed, reaching out to poke one of his cheeks. Lovino made a squeak of indignation and swatted his hand away.

"Jerk - what the hell is a tomato?"

Antonio paused. "Are you serious? You've never had a tomato?" Lovino shook his head. "Well, you have to try one, then - come here!" And before he could even protest, Antonio had grabbed his hand and jumped into the air.

Lovino expected him to struggle a bit, unable to handle his weight, but was instead greatly surprised when his body immediately felt lighter than a cloud. Antonio had no problem flying him back up to the top of the shelf. Lovino watched, mesmerized, as his strong-looking, virescent wings beat together to propel them higher, dispelling beautiful mists of glittering dust.

Antonio set him down safely next to the window and then disappeared outside (Roma normally left the window open a crack to let in fresh air), waving a hand behind him as a sign for Lovino to follow. Lovino contemplated trying to pull the window shut right then and there, but a strange tugging in his chest squashed the instinct and told him to follow the other man. So he did.

"What the-?"

Lovino gasped, for sitting there on his window sill was a _turtle_, lazily chomping on a pile of greens. Antonio chuckled at Lovino's expression. "Yes, that is my turtle, Andre."

"Your turtle? How the hell did it get up here?"

"It flew."

"It _flew_? How-"

"-That," Antonio grinned, patting Andre's head, "is a very funny story. You see, my cousin and I were getting bored one day, so we went to go annoy this angel called Britannia-"

Lovino held up a hand to silence him. "I get it."

"Hmm?" Antonio tilted his head, amused. "You know of him?" Lovino frowned and gestured to himself. Antonio's grin slid right off his face. "Oh."

The two stood there in awkward silence, Lovino refusing to reiterate the subject.

"...Oh yeah!" Antonio exclaimed, suddenly remembering their reason for coming outside. "Tomatoes!" He turned and walked over to Andre, reaching over his shell to get to the clasp of a large burlap bag Lovino had failed to notice during his shock of having a _turtle_ on his sill. Antonio reached inside, pulling a cherry tomato out and wrapping his arms around it, the fruit as big as his entire torso.

Lovino stared at it. "It's food?"

Antonio nodded, smiling. "Yes, but this is a very small variety - good for traveling with. Normal tomatoes are much bigger, the size of... ah, do you know of apples?"

"Of course I do, idiot," Lovino replied, his eyes narrowing.

"Well then, they are about that size." Antonio walked around Andre and plopped down at the edge of the sill, his legs dangling off the side. "Still, living in Italy and all, I'm surprised that you haven't had one yet..." He shrugged. "Oh well - come here and try some!"

Lovino stared down at Antonio suspiciously. Why was he trusting this stranger? Was he really so desperate to talk to someone his own size that he'd trust anyone?

Begrudgingly, Lovino realized that half of the answer was a blatant 'yes', but as he watched Antonio reach back and retrieve a sword from a scabbard attached to the bag to slice the tomato in half, Lovino also found something in him denying "no!", that there was something else about this man that seemed... appealing. Lovino immediately blanched and berated himself for thinking so sappily about someone he had just met.

Ignoring his devious mind, he stomped forward and sat down next to Antonio, accepting the tomato half that was offered to him. "You don't have to peel it - just take a big bite." Antonio explained.

Lovino looked at the red fruit, seeing the juice glisten in the moonlight. Shrugging and figuring that he had nothing to lose, he slowly bit into it.

His eyes widened and he swallowed with a loud gulp. The tomato was tangy; it made his taste-buds tingle, and the way the skin crunched under his teeth and gave way to the soft fruit inside that seemed to melt in his mouth was just short of heavenly.* Cheeks pinking, Lovino immediately took another bite, eyes closing momentarily in bliss.

He heard a chuckle from the man beside him. Antonio watched him with a warm smile, having not even started on his own half. "Good, huh?"

Lovino shot him a glare, said "It sucks," and proceeded to devour the rest of the tomato. What felt like a tiny little bubble of warmth rose in his chest when Antonio laughed, not at all put off by Lovino's criticism. In fact, Lovino realized in relief as they began to converse, Antonio almost seemed like his father, in the way that he seemed to immediately understand his disability for portraying his feelings properly. Feeling a tingle of contentment spread through his entire body, from his fingers to his toes, Lovino closed his eyes again and failed to stifle a yawn.

"Hmmm, it_ is_ late, isn't it?" Antonio mused, glancing up at the sky to see the moon hovering directly above their heads. "Do you want me to go?"

He was answered with another yawn.

Antonio chuckled and stood up, handing his un-touched tomato half to Lovino. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, then." He pivoted and slung his leg over Andre. "Take care, Lovino."

Lovino's eyes widened momentarily as Andre rose up into the air, realizing that he was most likely never going to see the faerie again.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. Antonio tilted his head, his eyes looking down at the boy without any particular emotion in them. "You..." Lovino adverted his gaze and his cheeks darkened into a deep red. "...You can come back, sometime... if you want. ...N-not that _I_ wantyou to, but... I might want another tomato soon, okay?"

Antonio smiled so genuinely that Lovino found himself gaping back. "Alright, then! I'll come back tomorrow!"

"What-... whatever."

Antonio coaxed Andre forward and reached over to ruffle Lovino's hair. "See you then, Lovi~"

"Hmph," Lovino huffed, crossing his arms. "...Wait, _what_ did you call me?"

Antonio laughed freely in response, swerving to avoid the fist that came flying his way and zooming off into the night. Lovino watched as he flew away, still clutching the tomato half.

Slowly, he brought it to his lips and took a bite, hiding a small smile.

* * *

*AN: I hate raw tomatoes ;;xD Sorry if the description sounds a little off.


	4. Tuesday

Chapter 3 - Tuesday

"This omelette doesn't have enough cheese. It's horrible."

Roma smiled as he watched his boy eat, elbow resting on the table and fist propping up his cheek. When he awoke that morning, he laid in bed for a good half hour, preparing to comfort what would surely be a broken-hearted Lovino. Yet, when he finally decided to get up and walk over to his son's room, he was greeted with soft, untroubled snores. Lovino slept there in his walnut bed like an angel, covers pulled right up to his chin and a small, serene smile upon his face.

Of course, his bout of innocent beauty didn't last long, for as soon as Roma said "Lovino, It's time to get up," and reached forward to softly poke his shoulder, Lovino's usual glare of scorn molded itself back on his face.

And now, here they sat at the breakfast table, Roma glad that the incident from the night before had been put behind them, at least for the moment. Lovino was definitely back to his harsh-tongued, food-criticizing self.

"Y'know, this would taste good with some tomatoes in it," Lovino said, using his toothpick to shove a piece of omelette into his mouth. "Why don't we ever eat tomatoes?"

Roma cocked an eyebrow. "I'm allergic to them. And since when did you know what a tomato tasted like?"

"Had one at the farm next door." Lovino shrugged it off and continued to eat.

He was lying. Roma could tell almost instantly, and not just because he knew the farm next door grew no tomatoes. Growing up, Lovino rarely had a reason to lie to him, and when he did, it was normally to conceal a Christmas present or something of that sort. Thus, because of his lack of practice, Lovino was quite a bad lier, having developed a few tell-tale signs that almost always gave him away - such as shrugging his shoulders immediately after the lie had been told and doing something to prevent him from having to talk further on the subject.

Humming to himself in amusement as he cut through his omelette with the side of his fork, Roma wondered what his little Lovino was hiding from him this time.

* * *

The day went by peacefully. It was Tuesday, which meant washing day, which meant waking up early and sitting down side by side to scrub at their dirty laundry before Roma left for work. After rinsing their workload off, they made their way outside with their arms wrapped around overflowing laundry baskets to hang the clothes up on the clothesline. Lovino was particularly fond of this part of the procedure, because when they returned outside after Roma came home, his shirts always seemed to have soaked up the energy from the hot afternoon sun, leaving them toasty and warm. He often liked to change straight into a shirt from the line while un-paperclipping his laundry.

Lovino spent the portion of the day not meant for working on laundry home alone. Roma always showed great distaste for leaving him as he departed for his leather-shop, but Lovino really didn't mind. He had access to food from the pantry, drinks from the icebox and water pump, and a bed for siesta. Most of his days were spent outside (he was able to traverse between the indoors and outdoors freely via a cat-door) in the back yard or over at the neighbor's farm.

However, on the days when either he was kept in because of rain (which could be very painful to get caught in depending on the strength of the downpour) or he just felt like staying inside, Lovino often entertained himself by singing. He would never admit aloud that he enjoyed such a hobby, but more often than not as he made his way through the small, empty, two-bedroom house alone, he would find himself belting out various tunes he had been taught by Roma and the wildlife alike. Yes, belting out - singing always felt best when he could do it loud.

Roma had learned to open the front door quietly when he returned home from work, as not to disturb Lovino in case he was in the middle of a song; the minute the boy realized that his father was home, the music came to an abrupt stop and would be replaced by a familiar frown and crossed arms. It was quite a shame, as Lovino's voice really could rival an angel's, but his pride was too large, so it couldn't be helped. Sometimes, like today, Roma would just sit down at the kitchen table and close his eyes, and smile while his son's voice radiated throughout the house, surprisingly powerful for someone so small.

"What the heck are you doing, old man?"

Roma opened his eyes to see Lovino glaring up at him from the threshold of the living room, the light pink dusting on his cheeks telling him that he knew he had been caught singing. Chuckling, Roma stood, picked Lovino up, and went outside to collect their laundry.

* * *

That night, as soon as Roma tucked him in, bid him good night, and closed his door, Lovino shot out of his bed and shimmied through the crack in the window, all the while scolding himself for acting so naive. Seriously, what were the chances of someone he had just met the night before keeping a promise to see him again? _He_ surely wouldn't want to see himself again. What was keeping him from curling up in his bed and forgetting anything ever happened, to spare himself the hurt of Antonio potentially not arriving?

But a single thread of hope in his heart proved itself to be stalwart as titanium, and Lovino found his legs taking him to the side of the window sill, and well, since he was already there and all, he decided it wouldn't hurt just to sit down for a little while.

Five minutes later: "Aw, Lovi, you were waiting for me?"

Lovino started and whipped around to the right to see Antonio descending on his flying turtle, Andre. He spluttered indignantly, "N-no way, you jerk! I was just looking up at the sky before I went to bed."

Antonio smiled and dismounted from Andre's shell.

Lovinio paused and stood up. "...You actually came," he said, his tone slightly incredulous.

"Hm?" Antonio cocked an eyebrow as he reached into his bag and pulled out a large amount of greens and two halves of an apple slice. He placed them down in front of Andre, patted the turtle's neck, and turned to Lovino. "Of course I came back, Lovi! I wanted to see you again."

Lovino grimaced and cursed when he felt his damned cheeks heating up again.

Antonio chuckled - a light, tinkling sound that echoed through Lovino's head. "Just like a tomato."

He walked forward and poked one of Lovino's dimples, granting himself a loud "Get the hell off me!" from the boy, but before Lovino could even try to fight back, Antonio was shoving a tomato half in front of his face.

Lovino stared down at it for a few seconds before the urges of his stomach overtook the urges of his pride. He shot a scathing glare at Antonio and snatched away the tomato half, plopping back down on the window sill. He noisily bit into the rim.

Antonio took the liberty to sit down next to Lovino, watching the poorly-concealed flickers of bliss flash across the young man's face with a warm smile. Biting into his own half, he looked out at the grassy plains of Tuscany, dully illuminated by the moon.

"I am curious," he said after a few moments, "Surely you don't live here alone?"

Lovino shook his head, bringing his hand up to wipe at a trail of tomato juice that ran down the side of his chin. "I live here with my old man."

"Your father? ...Is he like y-"

"-No, he's regular-sized." Lovino glanced at Antonio. "Or human, whatever."

Antonio hummed. "What is he like?"

"He's okay. I mean, besides the fact that he dotes over _everything_ I do - it gets freaking annoying at times." Lovino shrugged and bit into his tomato.

Antonio's eyes crinkled in mirth at the boy's stubborn refusal to relay any signs of affection towards, well, _anything_. "I bet he is a very nice man," - he could have sworn he saw Lovino nod in agreement ever so quickly out of the corner of his eye.

The two sat there in silence for a few minutes, just staring out into the backyard and up at the stars in the sky, clutching their tomatoes. Antonio inhaled deeply as the light summer breeze ruffled his hair. "What nice weather..." he sighed. "I wish it could stay like this forever, but the Golding of the Leaves has already begun."

"The Golding of the Leaves?" Lovino asked.

"It's this big, week-long formal celebration that commemorates the beginning of Autumn," Antonio explained. "All the faeries who specialize over Autumn elements come out and mess with the chlorophyll in the plants to kick-start the season." He sighed, obviously not too keen on the fact of the weather getting colder.

"So wait, you seriously control the seasons?" Lovino pressed, remembering what Roma had told him about faeries the night before.

Antonio shrugged. "Actually, most faeries only control certain aspects of the earth, like water and wind. The ones who have power over entire seasons are the nobles. It probably sounds cool, but it's actually very boring - the changing of seasons has just become another way for the faerie court to show off in front of each other."

Lovino's eyebrows rose, his mind zeroing in on the crowns from the faeries in the storybook. "You mean you actually have a King and Queen and stuff?"

He couldn't understand why Antonio started laughing. "Why, yes, we do." His voice took on a slightly coy tone - "In fact, I believe we're currently under the reign of what must be the most 'awesome' King to date, self-proclaimed or not."

Lovino paused for a few seconds before his curiosity took over. "Is... is there a prince?" he asked, keeping his gaze locked on his tomato. Because of this, he missed the mischievous glint that appeared in Antonio's eyes.

"Well, the King has no children himself, but there_ is_ a prince living here - a pretty good-looking fellow from Spain, if I say so myself."

Lovino looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Spain?"

Antonio chuckled, immediately interpreting Lovino's tone. "We faeries can be a bit nomadic, and we love to live in multi-cultural communities."

"Is that why you talk that way?"

Lovino regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, realizing he had gone a bit too far. He breathed a sigh of relief when Antonio grinned, not phased one bit by the comment. "Actually, I'm Spanish, too."

Lovino stared at him sardonically. "So what, you just felt like packing up one day and moving to Italy?"

Antonio tilted his head and shrugged, a bemused expression on his face. "It's very exhilarating to move to a place that you do not know much about. My cousin, for instance, spent most of his life in Germany (he now lives here with me), and his husband is fluent in both French and English. When we moved here around six years ago, we loved the culture so much that we decided to stay."

There was something in Antonio's words that surprised Lovino and tugged greatly at his Catholic upbringing. "Wait, wait, did you say _husband_?"

Antonio stared at him quizzically. "Yes? Is there something wrong with falling in love with another man?"

Lovino leaned back, his eyebrows creasing in thought. He had always thought of falling in love with a _woman_, never with someone of the same gender. For a split second, he pictured himself standing side-by-side with a man, holding hands possibly, or sharing a light peck on the lips. Surprisingly, he realized that the prospect didn't seem nearly as repulsive as he would have thought... it was even somewhat appealing.

"...No, I guess not."

The image in his head remained, and slowly, the faceless man began to clear up into a certain someone Lovino recognized and was sitting right next to-

_'GAH!'_ his mind exclaimed, and Lovino threw the tomato stem as far as he could, trying to dispel the thought.

He was brought back to the present by some more of Antonio's chuckling.

They continued on like that for the next thirty minutes, just talking, Antonio periodically making a few jabs solely for the purpose of getting Lovino's face to flush, Lovino heatedly retaliating with a shove or punch to the older man's arm. Soon, though, Lovino began to release a few of his tell-tale yawns, which Antonio interpreted as a sign for him to take his leave.

"Well, Lovi," he said, standing up with Lovino following suit. "It's time for me to go." He reached forward and ruffled Lovino's hair, much like he had the night before - the young man squawked and batted his hand away.

"...Should I come back tomorrow?" Antonio asked, and Lovino realized that he genuinely was leaving the choice in his hands.

Lovino huffed and crossed his arms. "Whatever the you feel like, jerk." Antonio grinned and clapped a hand on Lovino's shoulder in parting before slinging his leg over Andre's shell and flying off.

Lovino stood there a few seconds longer on the sill, the festering tingles in his stomach going wild in the comfort of solitude. Deciding to let his pride down, at least to himself, he allowed himself to relish in the feeling and slowly turned around to walk back inside, lifting a hand up to gently smooth out his hair, his fingers lingering over the spot where Antonio's palm had laid.


	5. Pursuit

Chapter 4 - Pursuit

Every night for the next three and a half weeks, Antonio came to visit Lovino with a cherry tomato in hand. At first, he would ride in on Andre's back to see Lovino sitting there on the sill, so undeniably waiting for him despite the young man's protests. They would talk, stare up at the moon, and feast off of their tomato halves - Antonio had grown accustomed to eating light dinners just to accommodate his new nighttime snack. And then, when Lovino's father decided to close the window to keep out the air which was steadily growing more and more chilled, Antonio would instead grip the side of the window frame and pull it open with surprising strength. Their meetings would continue inside, the two leaning against Andre's lethargic frame and huddled around a candle flame.

Though Antonio had been intrigued with the hot-tempered Lovino since the moment he had first laid eyes on him, his fascination soon grew into something more meaningful, and he slowly began to experience a strange twisting sensation in his chest that took his breath away whenever they made eye contact.

And when he started to master the knowledge over which words, when stringed together with a coy smile, could make Lovino flush into the most vibrant shade of red...! His mouth would always coo things like: "Awww! You look just like a tomato, Lovi~!" - his heart would always replace it with: _'Awwww, you look so cute... - no, _beautiful_, Lovi...'_

Soon, as the nights flew by, their conversations grew deeper, Lovino's blushes grew darker, and Antonio's hair-ruffling lingered longer.

And Antonio, though he was easily excitable, energetic, and sometimes had difficulty detecting the atmosphere of a situation, was not stupid, nor did he have the mind to fuel a mighty pride and cover any occurring feelings with denial.

He knew he was steadily falling in love with Lovino Vargas.

"Great meal - I'm stuffed!" Antonio exclaimed, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach in content.

Gilbert shot him the most incredulous stare from across the table. "Come off it! You haven't even tried my awesome wurst yet!"

Antonio shrugged. "Sorry, I guess I'm just not that hungry." He smiled apologetically at his cousin, pushing his barely-touched plate of potatoes and sausage away.

Gilbert snorted, turning up his nose. "You haven't been hungry for the past frikkin' month, man." He took a large swig from his beer mug.

"Are you getting sick, Antonio?" Matthew, who was sitting beside Gilbert, asked in concern.

Antonio shook his head and held his hands up, palms forward as he stood. "No, no, I'm not sick." He paused to walk around his chair and push it in. "I'm fine. Really. I'm just going to go to my room, now."

And before Gilbert and Matthew could even think to stop him, Antonio jumped into the air and soared out of the hall.

The two remaining faeries looked at each other, alone at the table.

"He is _so_ hiding something," Gilbert stated with a devilish smirk. "I think we should follow him."

Matthew briefly pondered the prospect. While he wasn't much for sticking his head into other people's business (that was Gilbert's job), Antonio _had_ been acting suspiciously over the past several weeks.

His cousin-in-law had been eating very little for dinner lately, something extremely uncommon to witness, as Antonio could solely devour two entire stacks of Matthew's famous pancakes with ease. And after such a light meal, he would depart straight to his chambers and stay there for the rest of the night without a single sound coming from the room - Gilbert and Matthew hadn't realized how accustomed they had been to falling asleep to the sound of guitar strumming resonating through the halls before it suddenly stopped.

And then there was the fact that the palace's cherry tomato stock (which most of the time was only ever touched by Antonio) was dangerously dwindling down into single digits...

Matthew nodded in agreement and stood up, taking Gilbert's hand.

"...Okay, let's go."

The two zipped through the white marble halls of the castle, rounding corners at extreme speeds in an effort to catch up to their target, creating a slight commotion amongst the servants who were left in their wake, several of whom were very well almost run over.

They reached Antonio's chambers in record time. Gilbert pressed his ear to the door for a few seconds before shrugging and slowly turning the knob, quietly pushing it open a crack.

Antonio stood at his bed, stuffing what looked like a cherry tomato into a burlap bag, a few sprigs of greens following shortly after - all the while humming a light-hearted tune with a warm smile, as if his mind were in another place. Matthew and Gilbert watched on in silence as their cousin flitted across the room to retrieve his sword and then returned to the bed to tie the scabbard to the bag. Flipping the lid over and clasping it shut, Antonio grasped the straps on the bag, hoisted it onto his back, and walked over to the window to open the latch. He stepped onto the sill and jumped out into the night.

"...He left," Matthew whispered with raised eyebrows; though, when he thought about it, he wasn't nearly as surprised as he could have been.

Gilbert pushed the door open all the way and glided over the threshold. "Come on."

Continuing on their pursuit, Matthew and Gilbert made sure to keep a good amount of distance between themselves and their quarry as he made his way around the castle. Antonio ended up leading them down to the stables, where the court butterflies were kept. They hid behind a pillar as he stopped at the last stall.

"Andre!" Antonio whispered loudly, pausing to open his bag and taking out a lettuce leaf. Waving it over the fence of the conjoined coral, he called Andre's name again, and within seconds the turtle came lumbering into the pavilion - of course, there really was no need for a fenced-in coral when one's pet could fly, but Antonio had vouched for Andre by saying it would be nice for him to have a reasonable space he could solely call his own.

Antonio opened the gate and let Andre out, feeding him the leaf and hoisting the bag onto his shell, securing it in place by tying the straps under his legs and stomach. "Good boy~" he praised, rubbing Andre's neck and mounting his back. "Alright, let's go." After receiving three pats on his head, Andre rose into the air and zoomed out of the stables.

Without a word, Gilbert and Matthew raced to separate stalls and released two fast-looking Swallowtails.

"He must be planning on going pretty far, if he had to take Andre," Matthew noted as they took off, knowing they were well out of Antonio's hearing range. Gilbert's crimson eyes glinted, obviously taking Matthew's observation as some sort of challenge, and he nudged his butterfly to go faster.

Matthew, cocking an eyebrow, sped up a bit in turn.

Gilbert smirked at his husband and took hold of his butterfly's antennae, clamping his hands loosely around the ends and making revving noises by pursing his lips and blowing.* The sight sent Matthew into a fit of quiet laughter. "What are you doing?" he chuckled, "You look ridiculous." The older man just shrugged and grinned toothily, shooting forward a few feet.

And just like that, the next fifteen minutes turned into a racing competition between the couple, speeding neck and neck with each other and stopping when they got within a few meters of Antonio to let some space grow between them. They were so wrapped up in their game that they almost missed when Antonio stopped at one of the houses dotted along the road and took a sharp right.

...Wait, a _house_?

Gilbert and Matthew halted and slowly guided their butterflies to the corner of the house in disbelief. It wasn't a written law or anything, but it was common practice for faeries to avoid humans. They _rarely_ associated with them, as previous accounts of such interaction almost always ended up in entire fey communities having to relocate after being hounded for solutions to various problems and circumstances. Antonio, being a faerie prince, should have understood that very well... but here he was.

Poking their heads around the corner, they saw Antonio descend onto one of the window sills and dismount his turtle, walking over to the glass and smiling widely at apparently something, or _someone_, inside. Flitting over to the side of the frame, he took a second to get a good hold on it and then began to pull, gritting his teeth and beating his wings together to propel him backwards. The window jerked open in small increments, the wood catching on the sill, but after a few more tugs, it gave way and swung open.

"Hello, Lovi~," Antonio said, ushering Andre inside and then entering himself, pulling the window shut behind him; but not before another male voice sounded: "Jerk. How many times have I told you _not_ to call me that?"

Matthew and Gilbert looked at each other. _'Lovi?'_

Hopping off of their butterflies and telling them to stay put, the two flew around the corner, landing on the sill and staying just low enough to poke their heads above the window frame.

There, only inches away from the glass, stood Antonio, bending over with his side to them, shoulders shaking with what was most likely laughter, as he loved to laugh. He was setting down the greens he had stuffed into his bag earlier, and Andre sat at his side, already starting to munch on his snack.

But that was normal, Antonio-like behavior. It was the person next to him that immediately caught their attention. Unlike a human, as they had suspected, standing beside their cousin was another _faerie_, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. The faerie narrowed his eyes and said something which caused Antonio to straighten up and grin, a hand raising to scratch the back of his neck, the smallest tinge of red upon his cheeks, probably unnoticeable to the other faerie because of the dark, only visible to Gilbert and Matthew because of their close position.

Gilbert let out a hushed guffaw. "Well, slap my ass! He's got himself a boyfriend!"

This was incredible, indeed. Antonio was a true Spaniard at heart - a man of passion and culture with the looks and elegance (when he wasn't being completely air-headed) to pull off the complete 'heartthrob' package. Even excluding the fact that he was a prince, he would probably be able to woo any woman or man in the fey world that he wanted.

But that was the reason he always had such a hard time finding someone important. Matthew and Gilbert knew that ever since Antonio hit puberty, the fact that anyone he even thought of courting would immediately drop whatever they were doing and say "I do!" annoyed and perplexed him. He thought that most of the fey who ever expressed romantic interest were only in it for his crown and looks, and the idea of such a love proved to be very shallow to him, as was understandable.

Of course, it wasn't that romance was on the top of his priority list every second of every day, but on occasion even the annoying palace stableboy, Peter, could tell that he was lonely.

And now, here he was with someone he was interested in at the least, having apparently snuck out every night for the past month to visit him. Matthew wondered why Antonio felt like he had to keep it a secret - the rule that royals were not allowed to associate romantically with their subjects had been abolished almost a century ago (otherwise, Gilbert and Matthew themselves would never have been able to get married).

With a shrug, trusting Antonio to have a reason, he turned to his husband. "We should go."

"What? Why? I want to watch!" Gilbert protested.

Matthew shook his head and slowly crawled backwards, falling off the sill and letting his translucent violet wings catch a minuscule air current. "No, Antonio would want to have his privacy. We'll talk to him later."

With one last glance at the two, Gilbert sighed and followed Matthew back to their butterflies.

* * *

* AN: I know motorcycles haven't been invented yet, I'm _sorry. _D: I just had that image stuck in my head and had to use it. xD


	6. Thrill Ride

Chapter 5 – Thrill Ride

"Did you hear something?" Antonio asked, turning around to look out the window.

Lovino, who was sitting on his bed and already digging into his tomato half, shrugged without a care. "Probably just a bug."

Antonio decided to let it go and walked over to Lovino, sitting down next to him and leaning forward to warm his hands over the candle flame before them. "It's getting really cold outside. I bet it will be snowing within a month..."

There was something in the faerie's tone that caused Lovino to turn his attention to him, ignoring the pang in his stomach that set off when their eyes met. Taking this as incentive to continue, Antonio said, "I have been thinking... before the wind gets too cold and all... would you like to take a ride on Andre?"

Not expecting this in the slightest, Lovino's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his grip going slack on his tomato half. Of course he had his share of fantasies in which he was a faerie like Antonio, able to fly high above the village he always wanted to visit, but he never expected even having the chance to remotely fulfill the dream.

Yet here Antonio was, offering such a chance, as if he had read Lovino's mind, and he had this knowing smile on his face...

"Stupid Antonio."

"Is that a yes?"

Lovino scowled and adverted his gaze.

Antonio chuckled, standing up and walking over to rouse his turtle who had already fallen asleep. "Get your coat - let's go before it gets too late." Lovino set down his tomato half, frowning in an effort not to bely his excitement as Antonio jumped into the air to push open the window. He walked over to his small, doll-house armoire, reaching inside and grabbing his fall coat, slamming the doors shut as he stuffed his hands into the armholes.

They stepped out onto the sill, the chilled night air greeting them with a light tousling of their hair. Antonio grinned and slung his leg over Andre, patting the portion of the shell behind him as a gesture for Lovino to do the same. He did.

"Hold on tight!" Antonio exclaimed.

"What am I supposed to hold onto?" Lovino asked as the turtle slowly rose into the air, not seeing anything handle-like in sight.

Antonio's answering silence caused Lovino to gasp in disbelief. "_What?_ Antonio, you basta-ARRRD!" Andre lurched forward without warning, causing Lovino to panic and hurriedly wrap his arms around Antonio's waist. "Dammit, Antonio, I'll get you for this!" he raged as the faerie laughed and leaned to the side slightly, directing Andre to turn right and away from the house.

Lovino shifted slightly to look behind them, his breath bidding his lungs goodbye at the sight of his home growing smaller and smaller as they soared away into the night. Eyes wide, he whipped his head this way and that, taking in the massive olive fields beneath them with rapt fascination. In just ten seconds, he had risen fifteen times higher than he had ever been in his life.

Peering around Antonio, Lovino inhaled sharply when he saw the town approaching, the windows of the buildings flickering cozily and invitingly. He couldn't help but utter a "Wow..." as they ascended, just barely clearing a rooftop. They wove through the alleyways towards the church where Roma often went on Sunday mornings to write down notes on the sermon, which he took home to teach Lovino.

"Brace yourself!" Antonio yelled over the wind rushing past their ears, his entire tone laced with excitement. To further accentuate his words, he took one of his hands from its grip on the edge of Andre's shell and held it over Lovino's clasped ones, locking them in place. Before Lovino could even grasp what was happening, he felt Antonio shift his hips in order to bump his knee into the turtle's neck.

And at that moment, Andre switched into hyper-acceleration mode, hurtling forward with such intense speed that Lovino couldn't even shut his eyes against the wind. However, he did find his mouth flying open in a silent yell, the sudden flood of adrenaline making his heart shoot straight up into his throat. Antonio whooped in delight, turning Andre up at a ninety degree angle to race alongside the church's bell tower, scaling it within three seconds flat and ricocheting off into the stars. They continued to bolt through the sky as Andre leveled out, and Antonio even had the audacity to throw them through a few loops.

Slowly enough as their adventure wore on, Lovino began to grow used to and even enjoy the thrill the ride was giving him; his arms tightened around Antonio's waist and he dissolved into rich peals of laughter, a huge smile on his face as they threw themselves into a barrel roll. He didn't notice when Andre slowed down, and he didn't notice when Antonio turned around slightly, his eyebrows raised in astonishment at the young man's extremely uncommon display of positive emotion, so wrapped up he was in the excitement of it all.

However, he _did_ notice when Antonio, unable to help himself against the sudden pangs in his heart, dipped down and pressed his lips to his temple.

"-!" Lovino's jaw dropped in outrage, red flooding into his colorless, wind-blown cheeks. His arms twitched, wanting to punch his offender, but his hands remained securely clasped under Antonio's. After a second of struggling and half-coherent, strangled curses flowing from his mouth, he settled for glaring the most searing glare he could pull off, perplexed and flustered, his face burning all the way to his ears.

Antonio chuckled softly, his breath wafting across his face. "...Just like a tomato."

Inhaling sharply (half in indignation, half because of their close proximation), Lovino's lips thinned at Antonio's temerity. He felt the faerie slowly release his hands, saw his shoulders tense up, obviously preparing for the inevitable blow that would come as punishment for his actions.

Who was Lovino to deny him such an expectation?

"Bastard!" he grunted as he bent his elbows, jabbing his fists into Antonio's stomach in what was most certainly a bad representation of the Heimlich maneuver. Antonio's responding grimace looked satisfyingly winded, and the faerie turned his attention back to Andre, deciding to give Lovino some space.

However, he wasnotexpecting Lovino's grip on him to relax, to hear the younger man sigh in exasperation and slowly lean forward to rest his chin on his shoulder.

"Lovi...?" Antonio pressed hesitantly, glancing down at him.

Though he couldn't actually see it from his angle, he could tell that Lovino was blushing and had a particularly sour scowl on his face. "Dammit, Antonio, just shut up," he responded, his voice coming out not nearly as menacing as he would have liked. Feeling his chest swell at the touching (well, as touching as Lovino would get) display of affection, Antonio briefly tilted his head to rest against Lovino's before leading Andre into a decent.

They were flying over a pond now, the cattails that still thrived swaying gently in the breeze, the last waves of fireflies twinkling as they drifted lazily by the water, their lights just barely distinguishable from the reflection of the stars. In the middle of the pond sat what looked like a toy river boat, its bright-red paddle wheels gently pushing it forward, creating soothing lapping noises on the water. Its deck and windows shone brightly with candlelight, and in that light, a frog sporting a handkerchief on its head could be seen sweeping with a feather.

Antonio pondered about his stomach for a second, remembering his pathetic supper and the tomato half that had been abandoned back at the house. "Are you hungry at all?" he asked Lovino softly, reluctant to upset the moment, albeit in favor of his appetite.

"...Kind of - why?"

Antonio pointed at the riverboat; "That place down there serves really good gelato. Want to try some?"

Lovino retracted his chin and leaned over to look down. "Sure."

And so Antonio guided Andre down to the bank of the pond and landed, dismounting and stepping back to allow room for Lovino to do the same. After he instructed the turtle to stay within the area, Antonio turned to Lovino and outstretched his hand. The younger man stared at it for a second, frowning, before grabbing it and looking away.

Antonio's wings began to flap, recapturing Lovino's attention, and they rose into the air, his body immediately feeling as if it had been filled with helium. Lovino couldn't help but gape as he floated alongside Antonio through just the connection of their hands. The only other time Lovino had directly witnessed Antonio's power like this had been on the night they met, when he was carried up onto the top of his shelf. But this... It was one thing to be pulled along by a flying person - it was another to be standing side-by-side with them, as if taking a leisurely evening stroll.

And they were very nearly doing just that, considering the late hour and the fact that Antonio was now escorting him across the pond. Lovino looked down in amazement as the tips of his shoes just barely brushed against the ink-black water, creating minute ripples that stemmed from their feet like sound waves, disrupting the picture-perfect image of the night sky painted upon the pond's surface.

Chancing a glance at the other man's face, Lovino found himself staring into Antonio's viridescent eyes, the faerie apparently having not even taken his gaze off of him, trusting his instincts to direct them towards the boat.

For some reason, Lovino didn't find himself too much perturbed with Antonio's staring - rather, he found himself more surprised at the fact that he couldn't break the contact. There was something going on in Antonio's eyes, a certain softness and warmth and _something_ else that Lovino could not exactly place, and it was intriguing the hell out of him.

Antonio opened his mouth, the small motion bringing Lovino's attention to his lips, pale pink and incredibly soft-looking. "...We're here."


End file.
